Mercutio or Satana Escalus
by sosoguillemot
Summary: Mercutio is mad. It is well known and acknowledge. but what drove him to madness? or should I say, her? and would that have to do with a certain blond-headed Montague? Mercutio(Satana)/Benvolio rated M for suicide, rape and safety
1. Chapter 1

It was a normal day, in a normal city, under a normal sun. The sky was cloudless and the air hot. In the centre of a piazza, not far from a singing fountain were three young men. All were wearing guns and various weapons, casually showing their blazon. Two were clothed in blue whereas the third one was wearing black and white. The colour of their clothing showing off their factions, two were Montagues and the third was a kinsman of the Prince. One from the Montagues had long dark brown hair while the other had short steel blond hair, unruly and ruffled by the hot desert wind. The third man had hair that could neither be described as long or short. It was slightly too long for a man but slightly too short for a woman. He was the slimmest, the frailest. His hair was midnight black, and his charcoal eyes were big, framed with beautifully long eyelashes. In them shone amusement, wit and an immense power of will, even though they beheld sadness, well-kept and hidden behind a thick wall of mockery, a catching aura and mystery.

The boys were called Romeo, son of the Montagues and the lover of the group. By him was Benvolio, his cousin and peace keeper. The last one was Mercutio, cousin of the county Paris and nephew of the Prince, through his mother. Romeo had brown hair, an engaging face and was adored by woman. He was yet to reach his nineteenth birthday. Benvolio on the other hand had striking blond hair, kept short for ease and a well build body; his father had been eager for his son to grow muscles before his death. Benvolio looked over at Mercutio and said something. Romeo laughed, as he replied quick wittedly. The sun was shining mercilessly and they enjoyed the shade of the old willow tree and the murmur of the running water.

A man dressed in red entered, sending tension through the whole atmosphere. Romeo jumped up, encouraging his friends to leave the piazza, as Benvolio hoisted Mercutio up against his will. They were about to leave, as the red clothed man mocked them.

"_fleeing are you?"

Mercutio jumped around and replied.

"_yes, fleeing from the impetuous odour surrounding your every step is our main occupation today, since it seems the whole Verona is filled with shit. The air here was seemingly breathable, but alas there must be a dog under your shoe. Or a cat…"

The man went red, as he drew his gun. Mercutio took a step forward and said;

"_come on, Tybalt. I knew you didn't have much taste, but this is a fashion faux-pas. Red and pinkish blue don't go well together. There is no need for you to hold your breath like, that, apart of course if you only noticed the rancid odour following you everywhere…"

Tybalt's fist shot back, and Mercutio nearly got hit, avoiding the hand at the last possible moment.

"_coordination, Tybalt. Coordination." He said in a mock desperate fashion. His own knee left for the groin of the Prince of Cats, Tybalt doubled over in pain. He grabbed Mercutio by the collar and tackled him to the ground. He head stumped him, successfully dazing both of them. However, Mercutio was the first to gain his senses back and replied by sending his fist flying to his opponent's cheek. Tybalt's head shot back, and he freed himself from the Capulet's grip. Mercutio stood up and looked around. Romeo and Benvolio were fighting the two Capulets to stop them from joining his fight. Seeing Romeo in trouble, he rushed to his side and sent the man to the ground. Next to him, Romeo was sent flying into the glass window of a nearby shop, as Tybalt turned to face Mercutio. The boy from the house of Escalus, the Prince, sent his fist flying into Tybalt's face, successfully hurting him. His other hand flew to Tybalt's arm and held it behind the Capulet's arm, successfully stopping the fight with the Capulet's cry of pain. All turned to the two, as Mercutio looked at them.

"_leave."

The order was clear. The two Capulet boys picked Tybalt up and hurried away, leaving the Montagues and Mercutio alone on the piazza. They burst out laughing. However, their laughter died when they heard sirens of the police and the Prince appeared behind them.

"_Mercutio. Home. Now. You two" he said, pointing at the Montagues. "it is the last time I close my eyes before your ruckus."

They parted there, Mercutio hinting to them to come to his house tonight, he would sneak out.

* * *

Later on, back at the Prince's office.

"_I am rather disappointed in your behaviour. As a member of the house of Escalus, it is your duty to set the example and be neutral in this feud. However you are all but doing what is expected of you."

Mercutio stood straighter in his chair.

"_what have you to say in your defence?"

The boy closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them again.

"_ nothing. Tybalt started, I replied. I am not white but not carrying the whole blame. If I had the choice again, I would not change my actions. He insulted us and that is far worse than any beating you or father might judge necessary."

The prince pinched the bridge of his nose and sighted.

"_Mercutio, this has nothing to do with being right or wrong. You were probably right to reply such as you did, but you should not have broken the properties of others. Now, we and the Capulets have to pay for the repairs of the window. That is all. Did you have to break a window?"

A sly smile appeared on the boy's face, replica of the one on his uncle's.

* * *

When Mercutio reached his home, later on in the day, he saluted the guard at the door and asked if his father was in a good mood. The negative reply sent a chill running up his spine as he opened the door to his house. The next thing he saw was a hand coming down before he embraced the floor. His father kicked him in the stomach before reaching down to pick Mercutio by the collar and throwing him in the direction of the stairs.

"_upstairs."

The boy scrambled up the steps and hurried to his little brother's room.

"_Valentine?" he asked, opening the door. He saw the spread form on the floor and rushed inside. His little brother was lying on the cold tiles, unconscious. He picked him up and called for a maid. When the woman arrived, she rushed to the boy's side and took him to the healer, living in the attic of the house. Mercutio thanked her and left for his own room. Upon entering, he got rid of his clothing and stepped into the bathroom en-suite to his own room and turned on the shower. He slipped under the hot water and washed to dirt and stickiness from his tanned skin. He stayed slightly longer than needed under the hot water and closed his eyes. He let the water run on his bruised skin, the shallow cuts and the scars of deeper ones. He snapped out of his trance and got out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around himself, he looked at his reflection.

In the mirror stood a beautiful woman. Her hair was midnight black, and her charcoal eyes were big, framed with beautifully long eyelashes. In them shone amusement, wit and an immense power of will, even though they beheld sadness, well-kept and hidden behind a thick wall of mockery, a catching aura and mystery. She had slightly too short midnight black hair. Her body was curvy, despite the treatment it received. The cut and bruised stretching across her body told a story.

* * *

The one of Mercutio Escalus, an heir born girl her father forced into becoming a boy.

* * *

Not willing to dwell anymore on the thoughts that killed her nights, she went back to her room and dressed, putting back on the metal corset that concealed her features to anyone.

* * *

**ME note: heya! well thanks for reading through the first chapter... you really are tough poeple to put up with my spelling mistakes... :D**

**chapter 2's up, so yeah, try read through it if you dare.**

**virtual cookies for anyone who gets there!**

**So'**


	2. Chapter 2

Dressed in a loose shirt and jeans, she went up the stairs to the chamber of the healer. Upon entering, she immediately headed for the bed she knew her brother would be in. she found him asleep, his angel face serene despite the bruises. Her heart squeezed. Valentine… Tears threatened their way down her cheeks, but she forced them back and instead let her madness overcome her once more.

She ran back down the stairs, to her room and slammed her door. She rummaged through her staff and could not find what she searched for. Anger fuelling her crazy actions, she ran down to the study she knew her father would be in and slammed the door open. He was at his desk, a maid forcefully pinned and stripped to the floor. She pushed her father away from the woman as the servant hurried out of the room. Her father went back to his feet and slapped her across the face. She hit him and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain but punched her in the stomach. Knowing she was out tonight, rather than giving her beating, he pinned her to the floor instead of the nurse.

"_what did you do to Valentine?" she screamed at him, even when she was held down. He did not bother answer, and she kicked, bit and punched. Fed up with his daughter's action, the man forced her still and parted her legs. Her screams and curses, her punches and slaps, her cries and ruckus were heard across the whole mansion. Servants trembled in the corridors, cried in their rooms. Their master was crazy.

* * *

Her body hurt.

* * *

She had not bruise, she had been raped enough time to know there was no signs on her body. Her arms hurt, and there might be bruises flourishing there as well as her throat, but she doubted anyone would really notice. She forced her body to raise from the trembling mess she had been on the floor, put some concealing cloths on and get ready to go out through the window. She took her car keys, her phone and her wallet and closed her room's door silently. As quiet as a shadow, she crept upstairs and checked on Valentine, before kissing his cheek and opening the window. A tree was growing not far from the window at all, merely an arm length. She sat on the window frame, her feet dangling down in the emptiness of her three floor house and stretched her arms out to the branch she knew could support her weight. Once she had a hand holding 'safely', she closed the window, pushing it far enough to nobody would suspect it is open, but still being able to slip her nails in the gap and open and thrust herself into the nothingness. Her hands on the branch above her head, she tiptoed onto the one under her and walked like that to the trunk. She then gripped the trunk and made her way down the tree. Down in the street, she caught sight of her car and two forms sitting by it. From her branch in the tree, she pushed herself over the garden's wall and into the street. The two people rose and came to greet her. She stayed alert until she was able to see who it was and greeted Benvolio and Romeo.

"_so," Romeo asked "where are we going tonight?"

She laughed and motioned for them to enter her car. Being a relative to the prince, she had… 'official' and 'unofficial' contacts. One of those unofficial contacts knew his way around a car and 'upgraded' hers. Starting the motor, no noise was heard. The engine didn't make any either when they raced away through Verona's streets at a speed that would have cost her her license. They reached the posh district in a matter of minutes and it didn't take them a quarter of an hour to reach the outskirts of town. She left her car there and walked casually in a dark alleyway, Romeo and Benvolio not far behind. They entered a house, no different from the other on the outside. Inside they were greeted with thick smoke and loud music. There was a pinkish red lightning and strong alcohol running. She made her way to the counter followed by Romeo and Benvolio and greeted the barmaid. She noticed how her eyes lingered on Romeo and smiled to herself. She ordered a beer to the table they usually used and left the other guys to pay while she went and hunted the boss through the crowd. She finally found him and invited him to join her and her friends to share a drink. He politely refused and smiled at her. He really liked that nice guy Mercutio. Wild and crazy, but with money and manners. If only there were more men like him coming to his strip club…

She made her way back to the table and found Benvolio and Romeo in a big conversation. She sat and looked at her friends. When she deemed the conversation was going boring she said;

"_Romeo, the barmaid."

His head shot up and looked at her.

"_you sure?"

"_she is literally eating you with her eyes. Forget Rosaline and jump on her." Her crude talking had always kept the suspicion at bay. After all, what kind of lady would talk like a man?

Romeo went to hunt down another prey, while she and Benvolio watched them, laughing. She soon noticed his gaze on her and looked back at him.

"_you have marks on your throat" he stated. She looked at him and laughed.

"_what's that, Benny?" she knew he hated this nickname. "Don't be silly. You were with me for the whole day; it must be the ale or the shadows tricking you." She smiled indulgently at him and smoothly raised her jacket's collar so it hid her bare throat. He shrugged his shoulder and returned to his beer. A few minutes later, four girls invited themselves to their table and two seemed to hit on Benvolio while the other two took a liking to Mercutio. She did her best not to look too much over to her friend, but she found it hard not to rip the throats of the girls.

* * *

Yes, on top of all the shit happening to her she found a way to fall in love with her best friend, who thought her to be a boy.

* * *

She acted like a total player with the girls, just to keep her façade up, but she found it harder and harder, as the crowd got bigger inside and the walls seemed to concave inward to strangle her. Her breath quickened and suddenly, she just knew she had to get out. Vaguely excusing herself, she rushed outside just in time and reached the back garden before throwing up the inexistent content of her stomach, since there was no food for her at home, her dad and her having fought. Her breathing accelerated and she threw up again, almost strangling herself. She felt a hand on her back and sensed the presence of someone. She turned around and saw a man. It took her a few minutes to recognize him as her doctor.

"_be careful he doesn't get you pregnant…"

Her blood froze. Pregnancy… that would mean nine months of constant beating and maybe a child. A child. She could not afford a child in the condition her father and their family was. After her mother's death, the problems had sprung up and her father had gone mad. Her mother died giving birth to her, twenty two years ago. Her father tried to find another wife, and when a poor woman fell in his trap, Valentine was born. That was nine years ago. She was thirteen. Ever since she was the one to bring up the child since his mother died in 'unknown' circumstances. She was found dead at the bottom of the main staircase.

Mercutio came back to the present when her doctor placed a bottle in her hand.

"_drink that and if you are bearing a child, he will die and you will have very heavy monthly discharges. If not, nothing will happen. Be careful." He warned. She thanked him and drank. She felt her stomach twist, her body shiver and she did her best to regain her balance. She felt her knees shake under her and she suddenly lost her balance. Luckily somebody caught her. She felt herself being held up by a strong arm and vaguely noticed Benvolio's face before she threw up again. She heard a sigh and suddenly, she felt cold water in her face. She raised her arms in defence and fell to the ground. She crawled backward until she reached the wall, far out of her father's grip. He never came after her when she was crawling on the ground. He actually quite enjoyed her shaking in his presence and preferred to watch her. However, this time, he gripped her arm and forced her to stand. She stood on two wobbly knees and suddenly the fog in her mind cleared. She stood perfectly well on her two legs and turned around with her head clear. Instead of her father, Benvolio stood there, watching her with worry in his eyes. She looked at her hands and then back at him.

"_what happened?" she asked.

"_found you throwing up in the back garden. Threw a bucket of water at you. You went mental and dunno… and then you suddenly are able to stand perfectly well and reason… this is above me."

His words echoed in her mind. 'you went mental' 'suddenly you stood' 'throwing up'… her head started spinning and then she knew. Subconsciously a hand made its way to her stomach. Doing her best to hide her fears, she looked at Benvolio in the eye and asked, false cheerfulness in her voice.

"_where the devil is Romeo?"

"_throwing up on your backseat?"

"_he wouldn't dare?" her voice was horrified. "My car!" and then she ran all the way to her vehicle, Benvolio on her heels, both of them laughing like idiots.

They drove back to the Montague's house, where she helped Benvolio drag Romeo inside and bid them farewell when servants came to drag the wasted man upstairs. She then drove back to her house as the first rays of light shone through and, entering back through the top floor window stayed by her brother's bed until he woke up, dreading the morning and next day to come.

* * *

**ME note again: hallo. well you got through chapter 2, so virtual cookies for all of you guys... :) and please:**

**REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

As the days went by, her mood darkened and became more melancholic. Finally, the dreaded week arrived and as promised by the doctor, she spent it in her bed, clutching tightly to her stomach as her body rid itself of the dead body inside it. After the pain came the sorrow of having lost a child, and then melancholy. Her new friend and roommate. Melancholy would shadow her every step all day to cuddle her to sleep when the night came, leaving wet trails of black eyeliner on her pillow. But the tears were not the only thing hidden. Far from view, a spider web of scars, cuts and blood trails grew, spreading from her side to her arms. Self-inflicted this time, they helped lighten up her mood and the pain became somewhat of an addiction. She left her room less and less often and stopped replying to the texts she received, clearly conveying her will of being alone. One day, however, all this changed. Her black bubble shattered when her brother's cries rang through the house. Something snapped in her mind, her head thought clearer for five seconds and then she realized. No matter for the dead. Her living brother needed her; she had to stop grieving on her dead son. Otherwise she was of no use to him. And he would soon be dead as well. Forcing herself out of her torpor, she rushed downstairs and stormed in her father's study. She took in the whip and her brother's naked back. When he raised it again, she jumped in between him and the weapon and felt it on her flesh. The mark was bleeding, but her father stayed gobsmacked for a second. She took the opportunity to raise her brother off the floor and throw him out of the room. She was about to follow him when her father caught her. The door closed on her scared face as a nurse helped the nine years old off the floor into the healer's room, where his sister would be brought once their father had finished with her.

She had met her friends on the piazza once again and they were laughing together when suddenly, she felt it. The little shadow on her mind, the dreaded feeling of madness overpowered her when she heard a cry in her head. She jumped up, startled at first and suddenly, before her, there were no more Benvolio or Romeo. Only the dead face of her stepmother and the bruised body of her brother. And the licking of whip on bare flesh. Clenching her fists so hard she drew her own blood, she stood there and looked at Benvolio and Romeo.

"_I have gone crazy." She whispered the words, and Romeo did not pick them up for he was too caught up in his own sorrow over Rosaline. She watched him cry over the woman and suddenly, she could not hold it anymore and punched him in the face. Both her friends looked at her with big eyes.

"_snap out of it!" she ordered angrily. "love is not for spoilt children and even less for ones held dear by their own families. Love is for the one who has nobody so he can have someone. You are acting foolishly and childish by letting it overpower you. You have no love for a woman, rather for love itself. You are searching the pain it gives you rather than the sweetness of their skins by constantly falling in and out of it. You childish man, wake up and see the world as it is. No beauty in the days of the men, for they are filled with shit. No beauty in woman, for beauty withers away like a rose. No beauty in you and me, for you are engulfed in self-pity and I in madness! So now, snap out of it and embrace the ugliness of the world. We are partying tonight, and you are coming."

* * *

Her words had been harsh, but needed and it is a less gloomy Romeo who arrived at the Capulet's mansion. Mercutio greeted him and Benvolio, before entering the house. She was dressed accordingly to the party, in fancy clothing. Which meant she could actually dress herself as a girl. She had on a silver miniskirt, contrasting with her tanned skin and a very short tank top. She had let her breast free of her corset and they filled in nicely the tank top. Her hair was left to wave down her back, she had put extensions in. she was wearing make-up and it did take a while for Benvolio and Romeo to notice she was Mercutio. She was quite pleased when she saw their mouth fall and pop open at her sight, before they realized she was their 'male' friend. They had been gobsmacked at how realistic her body looked, and she had held back a bitter comment. Of course it wold look realistic, it was real!

When he had arrived, Benvolio could not spot Mercutio's wavy hair. However, he spotted a beautiful young woman, in her early twenties alone by the door of the house. She had a tanned skin, about the same shade as his friend's and beautiful curves. The top she was wearing gave a good view on her twins and he found he quite enjoyed the panorama. Her hair was raven black and waving gently down her back. The curves of her body harmonized perfectly with the ones of her hair. She wore eyeliner and a little gloss on her lips, giving them pulp and giving him the urge to kiss them. Her eyes were black as charcoal and framed by thick, long eyelashes. She was truly beautiful. She hooked his gaze and he was surprised to hear her:

"_well, Benvolio, Romeo. You guys are late."

Mercutio! From the look on his face, he assumed they looked quite stupid because he was doing his best not to laugh. Finally, he regained his composure as Romeo was doing his best to keep his eyes off Mercutio.

"_who is she?" he asked in his ear. Benvolio laughed down right on the spot.

"_he is Mercutio."

Romeo stopped dead on the spot. He looked at his friend, once, twice and suddenly flushed bright red. Mercutio simply laughed and went to kiss Romeo. Downright French-kissed him I'd say by Romeo's face.

But then, as the party went on and on, doubt made its way in Benvolio's mind. Mercutio seemed so natural in the role of the woman it was him being a man that wasn't fitting. His frail stature and slender body, his beautiful face and feminine eyelashes fitted the girl he appeared to be far better than the man he was. Even his odd length of hair was understandable now.

But how could Mercutio be a girl? He was always fighting and joking like a man, he had no breast and dressed like a man. Why? How? 'ask him' murmured a voice in his mind.

She was surprised none of them had asked questions yet. The feast had been going on for ages now and neither Benvolio nor Romeo had put the puzzle pieces together. She was seriously wondering if she had chosen the right friends when Benvolio arrived with his load of tricky questions;

"_you look very pretty tonight."

"_pretty?"

"_you are a girl?"

"_come on, Benvolio, how could I be a girl?"

"_you sound pretty natural to me right now…" he hinted.

Shit! Why did he have to be so observant? She felt herself search for an answer desperately and simply laughed it off.

"_it is the art of drama, 'mon cher'. How are you finding the dance?"

"_care for one?"

Trapped! If she said no, it would mean she was a girl and if she said yes it would mean being in the spotlight! She finally chose to accept his offer and laughing at Benvolio acted very manly throughout the dance. She heard laughter from everywhere around the room, as her partner and her danced a fiery tango. Useless to say it was more funny than technical, since she did all she could to step on his feet. Soon, the dance came to an halt and she could tell by his face Benvolio was sure she was no girl. She smiled to herself and patted herself on the back. Good job, darling.

"_so, tell me. What are we doing for your 22nd birthday?"

"_nothing. We could go to the bar?"

"_not having a ball?"

"_where? Father is not well."

He said nothing for a bit, but only stared at Mercutio's neck.

"_is it him who gave you these marks?" he asked, pointing at her neck. She quickly put a hand around them and covered them with her hair.

"_I don't know what you are talking about." She said in a cold, sharp voice, before leaving him in the shadow of his pillar.

It was the early morning when the party of the Capulets ended, and she did her best to find Benvolio and Romeo. She quickly found her tormentor, but the latter was nowhere to be seen. The Montague and her left the mansion and started running through the streets around the house, half expecting to see him lying across a drive way completely drunk. They however did not find him and she started shouting his name.

"_Romeo? Romeo!"

No answer.

"_for fuck's sake, Benvolio, have you no clue of Romeo's where about? You are his cousin!"

"_and you his best friend, yet you are as clueless as myself for the simple reason Romeo is Romeo and nobody can ever tell where the devil he is gone."

She just sighted and gave up on trying finding the madman, especially when she thought of the correction awaiting for her at home

* * *

**ME note: well, nothing to say, apart things are spicing up in the next chapter I think. or the one after that. can't really remember... :)**


	4. Chapter 4

She left Benvolio at the Montague's mansion, at about three in the morning. They agreed for him to come in his car to her house at ten the same day, meaning he could get seven hour sleep. Then they would go around and try to find that devil of a Romeo.

She drove back home rather slowly, first to avoid an accident and second to retard the most possible her beating. She however did reach the house at one point and summoned all her courage to push the door open. Her father was standing in the hall. He looked at her, from toe to hair. He did that once, twice and suddenly, he shouted.

"_what were you doing outside like this?! Do you want EVERYBODY to know about you? Do you want them to KNOW? You ungrateful little WHORE! I am going to sell you to my friends. I will beat you. I will shred you apart with my bare hands, I will strangle you!" as he was talking, he had stepped forward and caught her hair. He dragged her on the floor to his study, where he threw her in and slammed the door shut. Taking his cane from the floor, he lashed forward and hit her several times with it. He then slapped her across the face four times, her lips opening and blood dripping slowly. She felt her eye shut, as his fist landed on her face and her head snapped back. He then took his whip from where it laid on the desk and, lifting his arm up high, brought it down in one quick movement. The leather collided with her clothing, slicing through it and burning her flesh away. She cried when the leather hit her a second time and tried to crawl away from him. Her legs failed her, and she tumbled to the ground. She felt his weight leaning over her, and suddenly she was turned around. Her cloths were token off and thrown away from her, as she was pinned to the ground by her own father. He slid a hand in between her legs and forced them open. She tried to break free, she kicked and hit him several times, but he didn't stop and penetrated her in one painful movement. She felt him bite her neck, and start back and forth movements in her. She cried out and kicked, but he only turned her over and repeated his actions, taking her from behind. Her screams were heard in the whole house, and the servants did not dare approach their master's study. However, the screams did not stop. They carried on, for hours on end. And when finally, three hours later, the shouts and cried stopped, she was left on the stone floor, naked and broken. She had a black eye and several bruises were already showing on her body. She also had new cuts her father had made in her flesh, all bleeding profusely. She rolled in a ball on the cold hard floor and fell asleep, tears running down her face.

When Benvolio arrived at nine, the first thing that welcomed him was screams. He could hear Mercutio's voice screaming, and the shouts of nurses and serving men. He could hear the angry roars of the lord of the house as well, and those froze his blood. He took a step in the gravelled alley of the house and slowly made his way toward the house door, doing his best to stay unseen. All his thoughts of discretion however died as soon as he heard Mercutio's scream of pain. He opened the house's door and stood still, mouth agape at the scene before him. A nurse was holding Valentine away from his father, using her body as a shield while Mercutio's throat was between his father's hands. His face was bruised and his body covered in cuts and blood and bruises. He also seemed to bleed from his lips. Benvolio hurried inside and made for Mercutio when his friend looked at him as shouted:

"_take Valentine away, quick!"

The nurse threw the little boy at him, and he caught his brother before she ran to Mercutio's help and tried to severe him from his father's hold. However, he was not letting go and Benvolio sneaked behind him and kicked him in the groin from behind. The man fell to his knees, and Mercutio staggered to stay upright, but he pushed Benvolio and his brother out of the house and said;

"_I will come later. Go!"

And the house door was slammed shut, leaving Benvolio to run back to the Montague's mansion and entrust the little boy in lady Montague's care while he went and fetched a doctor to attend to his bruises and cuts. Never once did Mercutio's eyes leave his mind. He had seen fear, madness and pin in them. He had seen betrayal and love. It scared him what Mercutio's eyes said. It was too deep, too scary.

* * *

It said: 'this happens often.'

* * *

On his side, Mercutio felt like he was dying. Sending her little brother away was the only thing she could think of on the moment to save him, but now it did not appear that good of an idea, considering that her father was going to go even more mad when he came back. She just hoped Benvolio would take care of him while she could not. She had slammed the door, and while the gate was shutting, she had seen worry in his eyes. Worry and anger. Her heart had leaped faster for one second. Her cheeks had blushed. Now was not the time, yet she longed even more for his lips on hers and his protective arms around her broken body.

She was slammed back into reality by her father, when he grabbed her and threw her to the floor. Her head hit the marble hard, and she remembered nothing after that. Black overwhelmed her.

She woke up where she had fallen. Her eyes immediately fell on the blood surrounding her, and she noticed the nurse by her side, tending to her wounds.

"_don't move" she whispered. "your wounds are bad."

"_Valentine?" she asked in a hoarse voice, her throat painful after the beating.

"_Benvolio took him away."

A small smile appeared on her features, as she closed her eyes.

"_stay with me Mercutio. Don't leave!" said the nurse, anxiously. "Mercutio!"

But she was already drifting away, her thoughts and eyes closed. Black took her again.

This time when she woke up, she was fully patched up and in her bed. It took her some time to recognize her room and her staff, but she did and tried to get out of bed. As soon as she had left her bed to stand, she had fallen on the floor. She pushed on her arms and forced herself back standing. She took a few hesitant steps and found it easier to walk. She reached her bathroom without falling again and was all but ready for what awaited her in there.

Her father was in there.

He grabbed her and threw her in the bathtub, after taking her clothes off. He then turned the tap on and poured freezing cold water over her. She shivered at the bite of the cold and let out a yelp of pain. He laughed and turned the tap to boiling hot. She screamed in pain and tried to get out of the bath, but he kept her under the water and let the bath fill slowly. Once there was enough water, he took his struggling daughter's head and forced it underwater. She splashed water and kicked, but couldn't get out. Darkness threatened her. He finally allowed her to breath, and did it again, changing the temperature once more and letting her shiver to death in the cold bath. He forced her head under the water one last time, cut her wrist deeply, and left her there, slowly emptying herself from her blood.

'it wouldn't be that bad' she mused 'to be gone forever…' she was letting her self be interested by the alluring promise of death, but soon she snapped out of it and kicked some sense in her head. She could not afford to leave Valentine alone with him and she still had to tell Benvolio.

* * *

**ME note: spices coming up people. I promise.**

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	5. Chapter 5

She only wanted to pop in and say hello to her brother, she did not intend to find Benvolio there, and even less to be confronted to his worries. She had not expected either the way he would treat her, like a fragile thing that needs protection. She hadn't expected him to be any different because he saw her in a position of weakness. She hadn't expected any of the sympathy that seemed to spring from the young man. She did not want it. Yes, she cared and appreciated his worry for her, but no. she did not want him to worry over her. She had taken care of herself for the past twenty two years without anybody to do it and she was alive, she would carry on like that. After a heated argument over if he should take care of her or not, seeing that Benvolio did not know Mercutio was a girl it made it easier for her to win it, they went out in the sunshine to the beach. There, playing in the waves, Benvolio had his shirt open on his perfect body while she had kept hers shut, apart for the first two buttons, letting nothing transpire of her corset. She wore a black shirt, and was baking in the sun but she didn't care. The metal of her prison was digging in her sides, burning her and she regretted, almost, coming to the beach. But Benvolio made it impossible to regret. This was before the clock struck twice.

"_we should go back. It is two, the Capulets are going to turn up and we will end up in a fight."

"_a fight, really? I long for a fight."

"_Mercutio, don't be an idiot. Let's just go back."

"_well you can go back, but I see something feisty over there."

"_oh my god, the Capulets. And Tybalt. Please, Mercutio, let's go!"

"_Tybalt, really… but I care not! Let him come. I am eager for a good fight."

Benvolio sighted, as she heard behind her the sound of shoes on the sand. She turned around and faced the Prince of Cats.

"_I seek Romeo."

"_you seek Romeo. And in what that wonderful piece of advice would help us?"

"_where is Romeo?" asked the Capulet, his temper rising.

"_why would I know where Romeo is? I am not his mother after all."

"_you are the friend of a Montague."

"_ah, you see, here is the point. Romeo is a Montague. I am friend with a Montague. Those two statements do not however lead to the logical conclusion you are drawing. Romeo is a Montague. I am friend with a Montague. Therefore I might be friend with Romeo. However, had you formulated it that way; 'you are friend with all Montague', your assumption would have been correct apart from the fact I am not friend with all Montagues."

Around them, people had started gathering, and Tybalt's temper rose higher at being made a fool of in front of all Verona.

"_I do not care for your words. Where is Romeo."

"_Mercutio!"

She pinched the bridge of her nose; only Romeo could chose such a bad moment to appear.

"_I leave thee, I have found my man."

Romeo stopped upon seeing Tybalt and he started walking toward the group, slower this time.

* * *

Mercutio was fuming. Her friends being peace lovers was one thing, but them refusing to pick up a fight when their honour was being so badly crumbled was another. When the fourth blow landed on Romeo's face, she could bear no more and, despite Benvolio trying to restrain her, she stepped between them both. Tybalt tried to punch her, but she was quicker and grabbed his wrist.

"_apologize and leave" she said in a scary tone. He refused to and carried on attacking. She blocked every blow and landed a few, but Romeo stepped in between the two. She tried to shove that idiot out of the way and shouted for Benvolio to get him, when the sound of a bullet was heard.

They froze.

She looked down at her stomach.

* * *

There was a hole in her shirt. A hole at the left of her stomach. She lifted her shirt a bit, enough to see her corset completely shattered by the bullet. There was metal in her skin. She picked them out, one after the other and dropped them on the floor. She then looked at her wound.

The bullet had hit entered straight, and the force of the blow had been deflected by the metal surrounding her body. But the bullet still found its way in her flesh. Delicately parting the remaining of her skin, she tried to dig a finger in the wound, assessing its depth. She was relieved to find it shallow.

She was however loosing much blood.

She stared at Romeo for a while and gnarled in between her teeth;

* * *

"_foolish idiot."

* * *

She then passed out.

When she was hit by the bullet, Paris entered the sandy area they had been on and was making his way toward them. When he saw his kinsmen fall to the ground, and the sand around him take a dreaded colour, he immediately called Mercutio's personal doctor and hurried to his side. He looked at the flesh wound, forgetting everything about why he had come and tried to stop the flow of blood. Romeo seemed shaken, and he ordered Benvolio to keep a sharp look out, and even to restrain his friend from committing murder on Tybalt. Once he had the blood flow calmed down, he turned to the Capulet and looked at him.

"_I take you are the one responsible for this."

His tone wasn't mean or angry, it was just tired. Tybalt suddenly saw all the meaningless point of the situation and the price it would cost them for a crazy thing such as this feud. He looked back at Paris with understanding in his eyes and the county smiled. The new generation might not have been that hopeless. And he was hot.

Paris had been known for being a scholar, but mainly he was as straight as a sinuous country road. And Tybalt was just the same. The county Paris looked at the man in another light, whereas the one said evaluated the attributes of his superior and they shared a knowing look. It was the one saying: stay after all this is done… but right now, they had another problem on their hands, different to the one they shared. They had a dying man, or should I say woman, in their care. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the doctor arrived. He paled at the sight of the wound and said to Benvolio;

"_Carry her" he corrected himself quickly "him to the car. Then drive us back to the mansion. I need my own medicine."

Obeying, he picked her up, scared at how light she was for a man and carefully laid her down on the back seat.

"_go back to the Montague's house, Romeo. And tell your mother." The young man agreed and went to his own car, leaving Paris and Tybalt to occupations we will not describe here. Mainly because it has so few to do with the story.

As they neared the Escalus mansion, they were both growing wearier and wearier, until finally the doctor said;

"_when we come in, we have to be very quiet. The lord of this house is probably in his study with one of the maids, it is better you do not show your presence here much. They might give you to him just so they can be left alone for a few hours."

"_who is they?"

"_the servants, the kinsmen. Everyone."

* * *

They crept upstairs very silently and finally reached the healing room of the house. Benvolio carefully laid out Mercutio on a bed and said;

"_what can you do to save him?"

The doctor froze. So he didn't know either that Mercutio was a girl then.

"_I am going to extract the bullet from the wound, this should be fairly straight forward and then saw the wound back first I have to check there is no sand in the wound, otherwise it might get infected and we don't want that. It would lead to certain death."

He simply nodded and looked at the doctor.

"_this is not going to be pretty, so if I were you I would go next door." So that I can work without having to worry about Mercutio's secret spilling out because of you, he added inside his mind. Benvolio seemed to get the cue and left the room. The old man undid her shirt and looked with hatred at the metal corset around the girl's body. She had worn one since she was eleven, to conceal every inch of her breast. And now, the corset was shredded into little pieces, all embedded in her flesh. She would be lucky if no scar remained. But then, she might have been dead by now if she had not had this on. It protected her. Setting his mind on work, he thanked god she was in the coma and started pulling the bullet out.

* * *

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	6. Chapter 6

It took her two days to wake up. Two days Benvolio spent between sneaking in the mansion of lord Escalus and at the Montagues', helping Romeo get over the fact he almost killed his best friend. He was doing the former when Mercutio awoke. She opened her eyes, taking in the dimness of the room compared to the brightness of the outdoor sun she remembered and suddenly she was very alert. She pushed herself sitting, the best she could muster right now and inhaled sharply as the pain made its way up her body, telling her she was wounded. She did not dare take a look at her side and instead turned her head to the creaking door. It would be a euphemism to say she was surprised to see Benvolio enter the room. She had expected the doctor. She was not the most surprised though, and Benvolio was truly stunned to see his friend sitting on his bed as if nothing ever happened.

"_you shouldn't be sitting. It is bad or your wound." Was the first thing to come out of his mouth. He was met with a cheeky grin from his friend and he replied;

"_worried?"

"_to death!" and the hugged each other.

It was not a very many hug, more a kind of friendly hug. Benvolio was sitting on the edge of her bed, and his strong hold made her feel weak. She did not usually appreciate this, but this time it made her feel safe and secure. Something that did not seem to happen very often. She was safe in his hold. But he only thought of her as a man. There was nothing between them. Nothing other than brotherly love.

And it killed her.

It disturbed him, Mercutio's frail body in his arms. It made him feel special, it made his body boil, made his heart beat faster. It made him feel different. And it shouldn't. It was not right of him to have such feelings toward his friend. His best friend for crying out loud! He was like his brother. And he was not gay! He couldn't be gay! That would be too embarrassing for his family, especially his aunt who almost brought him up. He could not afford to dishonour them. But then, looking back down at the black hair hiding in his arms, he could not help but have his heart beat faster. If only every minute of his life could be like that. Forcing himself to snap out of it, he rose from the bed and smiled at him.

"_get some sleep, I'll be back shortly. I am going to get the doctor."

* * *

Benvolio did not come back for the rest of her healing process. She waited, hoped and blushed, but he never came back.

* * *

It was a month after she had been brought back, and she had finally been deemed good enough to get out of bed and walk back to her room. Upon entering her own room, where nobody else had slept, she felt happy. A huge grin on her face, she hopped to her bathroom and set in for a nice bath, after the dreaded facilities of the upper floor. She let the water run, and smiled. She added some nice smelling body shower gel to the water and watched it make moss, as she started rummaging through her staff. She then went in back in her room and texted her little brother, asking him if he was still at the Montagues' house. He replied by the affirmative and she promised him she would visit soon. Sooner than Benvolio visited her anyways. At his thought, her blood boiled. Why was she so worked up about him? She wondered, slipping in her bath. Her thoughts did however plague her deep, and she started wondering how good it would be to have him with her here in this very bath, in this very bathroom? She could hear the door open and close, just like only he can. She heard his footsteps on the wooden floor of her room, his hands on the handle. She even felt his presence in the room.

A crash sent her out of her daydream.

Her eyes snapped open, and she was met with the electric blue ones of somebody she knew well.

"_Benvolio?"

"_Mercutio?"

She saw his gaze lower down, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She lowered her gaze as well and then she got it.

Her cleavage was showing.

"_oh shit." She mumbled, before sizing the first bottle of shampoo and throwing it in his direction. It hit him square on the head and effectively distracted him from her breast. He snapped out of it and looked at her, an expression of mild shock on his face.

"_stay." She said low enough for him to understand it was an order and he better not argue with it. He slumped down on the soft bath mat, next to her while she popped her head on her hands, on the edge of the bath. The moss gathered around her and hid her body quite well. They stared for a while and Benvolio looked away first.

"_I can't believe you are a girl."

She laughed bitterly and said;

"_who could? I don't talk like a lady, I fight and even you two, my best friends never noticed."

It hurt her to say it, but it was the truth. She wanted to say so much more, like I love you. I want you. She wanted his arms again. She wanted him. Lost in her daydream, she did not notice their faces were dangerously close, and when she snapped out of it, she felt herself unable to stop staring at his lips. She wanted him. The whole of him. Now.

He didn't mean it that way when he said that he couldn't believe she was a girl. He was so happy. Maybe he had a chance; maybe he could say I love you without dishonouring anybody. Maybe he could… love her. That's all he wanted. He wanted her face in his hands, her body against his. He wanted her. And her only. He didn't even think twice when he noticed for the first time her gaze on his lips.

His big warm hand on her face snapped her out of it. In his palm, she felt so small. She dislodged one from under her chin and placed it on top of his. Suddenly the room was growing too warm for her. Her breathing quickened. She felt his face grow closer to hers, felt his breathing on her lips and suddenly, the distance was closed. His lips were soft, alluring, and sweet as honey. Yet it made her head spin. She sensed his smile against her lips, and had a hard time supress a chuckle. They broke the kiss, and he murmured;

"_who would have thought?"

She smiled and looked back at him, their gazes interlocking with one another.

"_wait." She said. "turn around." It was an order, and he did so, though he could still see her in the huge bathroom mirror. "and close your eyes!" he diligently obeyed and heard her come out of the steaming water and wrap a towel around herself. He wouldn't have minded the view, but it seems she had decided otherwise. Waiting for the allowance to open his eyes again, he did not see her come toward him until they were almost touching, and he felt himself melt when their lips joined. It wasn't like the first kiss. It was desperate, loving and hating. It was teasing and torture to kiss one another. It was beautiful. Their breath mixed, her hands tied themselves around his neck while he lifted her off the floor. He placed her on the edge of the sink, her legs locking around his waist and they kissed again. Until none had anymore breathe. Her towel was soon on the floor, and her hands were unbuttoning his shirt. Quickly dealt with, it was on the floor second later and she attacked his belt. The metal was cold against her hands and she took pleasure in driving him crazy. She pressed her upper body to his torso, and bit the nape of his neck while the leather belt and trousers were sent flying somewhere. Hopefully not the bath. She felt his big, warm hands tie around her body, while he kissed her again, descended to her neck and left a mark there. She was his. And his only.

Her hands left his neck to wander on his perfectly muscled abs, taking their shape and knowing his body. When his hands reached her legs, he slowly parted with them, and penetrated her.

It was different from everything she had experienced before. Different from her father, from the incessant rapes. It was gentle, caring and it brought them pleasure, not satisfaction. She felt her stomach burn her, butterflies swirling and vanishing when he took her in his strong arms and she hid in his strong hold, inhaling his scent and feeling secure somewhere she knew well. Her own hands tied around his torso and he carried her to her bed, where they both fell asleep.

* * *

**ME note: hehe, spices are up people. from now on, shakespeare is FORGOTTEN! I am taking over, and if he is not happy with it, well sucks!**

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	7. Chapter 7

She would have loved for the sun to wake them up, the next morning, but it was her angry father who took over the charge. He marched into her room, grabbed her hair and, a hand over her mouth muffling any sound, he dragged her downstairs. Once he had locked her into the study, he called a maid and ordered her to wake him up and say that he was invited to breakfast. It did not surprise him to see her come back with news of refusal, as it is what he had expected from Benvolio. Once the man had cleared the house, he went back to his study.

* * *

Benvolio was woken up by the sound of knocking on the door. He quickly got dressed, taking in the fact that she was nowhere to be seen and opened the door.

"_the master invites you to breakfast."

"_I would be very honoured to attend, but I must go back to my own kinsmen, for lady Montague will sure be worrying herself by the time I reach the house, and I do not want to cause her anymore turmoil than she is already subjected to by her son marrying Juliet. However, have you seen Mercutio?"

The name felt wrong on his tongue. It was a boy's name, and she was such a beautiful girl.

"_the master will be having a word with him after breakfast. He is currently waiting in his study."

He could do naught and, instead of trying something foolish and worsening any reason for which she might have been there, he decided to leave the house as soon as possible. Sending away the bowing maid, he gathered his things and, popping by the doctor's room to say a word of thanks, he left the mansion.

As soon as the door has shut closed, breakfast was forgotten. The lord of the house made his way to his study and slammed the door open.

"_what do you think you are doing?!" his rage was apparent on every of his features, his anger and barely contained violence. "first you hide away Valentine, then you spill your secret to a Montague. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?! You are nothing without me and yet you defy me? ME? Don't play that game. Or I might sell you to the first brothel I find and your precious Benvolio will never ever see you again. And I will find your brother. Believe me. You have two days." He said turning to the door. "in two days, I want Valentine back or you are sold away to a brothel. Am I clear? And don't try inform anybody, don't try running away. I will find you. Only to strangle you with my bare hands. I will find you."

The door slammed.

* * *

She ran away in the night.

There was no option left for her. Going to the Montague's house would endanger Valentine, and she could not afford such a thing. There was nowhere else for her. Taking her bag from the floor, she ran upstairs and threw herself out of the window. There was no time for security. She had to put as much distance between herself and him as she could. Sending a text to Valentine excusing herself for not coming to see him and telling him to stay with the Montagues, she jumped in her car and drove away.

She stopped by the bank, and took off her account all her cash, leaving her with enough to buy a flat somewhere and eat for a good three months. She then carried on driving and reached the sea side, where she and Valentine would often go in the holidays. It was their hideout, their secret place. Unlocking the door, she stepped in the darkness.

Nobody had been there for a long time, and she could see the dust covering the every furniture of the room. She could smell the cold air coming in and the old smelling one rushing out. She stayed in the door way for a little time, unsure if she wanted to enter alone or not. Finally pushing her thoughts to the side, she slowly put her bags on the floor and reached for the switch.

In her most foolish dreams, a hand would have shot out of the darkness, catching her own. The light would have flickered and she would have been thrust into the oppressing blackness of her own heart. But she was in real life and the light shone bright in the house, scaring away the shadows inside. She saw the kitchen, as tidy as ever and picked her bags up from the floor before leaving for the first floor and her bedroom.

She pushed the door open, and it creaked slightly. She stood in the entrance, shivering at the cold air of her room. She had forgotten to close the window when they had left. Repairing her deed now, she carefully closed the wooden frame and turned to look around her room. Nobody was there, and nobody had been there since last summer, a year ago. The white sheets were perfectly smoothed and clean, and her clothes still hanging in the wardrobe. She felt like she was at the end of the ocean, far away from life on a desert island. Where time stopped. Sure her time had stopped there. Those four years she had spent here, with her little brother where the happiest of her life, the sweetest. They had been a normal boy and a normal girl. He had made friends with the town's children, while she had made acquaintances with the villagers, living not far away. She would go to the market, dress casually. Nobody would ask why she wore breeches and shirts when she was a girl and her little brother wouldn't notice her breast, so everything would be okay, and they would have fun far away from their father.

But that time was gone. She had to face it. She was alone. Turning her phone off and dropping it on the kitchen's table, she took her wallet and made for the town's pub. Maybe they had some strong ale she could deal with.

She came back, thoroughly wasted at seven in the morning. Nobody cared because no one was home. She climbed up the stairs by some miracle and made it to her bed with the help of god before smashing onto her bed. She cried. She cried for all the years she couldn't cry, she cried because she had been an idiot. She cried. She should have ended things sooner; she should have been braver and spared her little brother. She should have been better. Suddenly, her magisterial hangover disappeared and she crawled to the bathroom. The eyeliner she had on had smudged and she saw her red puffed eyes in the mirror with disgust. Holding her nose far away from that girl she hated, she slammed her fist in the silver glass. Shards entered her hand, and blood dripped slowly onto the marble floor while the broken mirror sent her reflection no more. Taking one of the sharpest pieces, she drew a long fire line on her arm.

For Valentine.

Another.

For Benvolio.

For Romeo

For life.

For her mother.

For death.

* * *

**ME note: hehe, I think there will be no lemon from now on, but more angsty staff... coz i like it...**

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**So'**

**P.S.: REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

Her phone vibrated again on the wooden table down stairs. Nobody answered to the first ring. Nor the second. The vibes became more insistent, and she forced herself off the bathroom's floor and up. Holding onto the railing not to fall, she managed down the stairs, blood still dripping from her hand. She picked it up just as it was about to switch to voice mail and set it on loud speaker. A voice filled the air.

"_Mercutio?"

She didn't answer.

"_Mercutio, I know you are hearing this. It's Benvolio. I just wanted to say… hum… I don't get… Mercutio, or whatever your true name is; why did you run away?"

"_Satana." Her voice was hoarse; it was hard for her to speak. Blood still dripping from her hand, she repeated; "my name is Satana."

Tears threatened their ways down her cheeks, but she held them back in, forcing herself to keep calm.

"_Satana…" he whispered in the phone. "Come back."

"_I can't. He will find Valentine."

"_where are you?"

"_Benvolio…" she felt herself go weak.

"_Satana? Satana!"

No answer. She was lying on the kitchen's floor, unconscious.

* * *

As soon as he heard the thump of a body falling on the floor, he was scared. He gripped his phone, almost breaking it and screamed at the top of his lungs; "Satana!"

Silence answered him.

Racing out of his room, into her brother's, he saw the boy talking with Romeo. They both looked at him with worry when he slammed the door open, and he paid no heed to their faces, he went straight to the point.

"_where might your sister be?"

* * *

Huge blank.

* * *

Then he realized.

* * *

They didn't know yet. They didn't know she was a girl. Tricky situation.

"_where might Mercutio be? I have no time for explanations. Where might she be?"

"_I don't know. He has many friends in Verona, the…"

"_not Verona. Somewhere else."

"_well, we have distant relatives in Rome, an uncle or something. He has…"

"_too far away. Somewhere not too close to Verona, but not far away. Within four hours."

He thought for a little.

"_well," he started "there is that house in the countryside, by the mountains. It is near Mantua, and pretty desert. We have never been there, but I know father has some slaves and crops there."

"_anywhere else?"

"_a summer house by the beach. We go there every year since I am five. It is about three and a half hours from here. He always smile when we are there, and he looks so happy."

Benvolio and Romeo shared a look.

Leaving Valentine in the sfe care of lady Montague, they rushed to the car and jumped in.

* * *

Benvolio had explained most things to a baffled Romeo, and he was now brooding over what a blind idiot he had been.

"_had I been less in my incessant quest for love, had I found Juliet sooner, none of this might have happened. She might have… I don't know. Opened herself more to us? Told us her secret? What did you say was her name?"

"_Satana. Satana Escalus."

Romeo went back to his thought, leaving Benvolio to let the GPS drive him around the countryside.

* * *

They reached her house a couple of hours later. They pushed to door, and it opened quietly. Worried anyone could have entered the house; they stepped in carefully and didn't switch the light on. Romeo turned left, into the living room, while he went right, to the kitchen. Under his hand, the door handle felt cold and sticky. He looked down.

"_Romeo!" he called, worry in his voice. The boy appeared a few seconds later, and he showed him his hand on the door handle.

Red with blood.

Dreading what would be inside, they quietly opened the door. What immediately caught their attention was the table. It was big, dark, and her cell phone was on it. But what caught it next was something different.

She was lying, motionless, on the floor, in her own blood. Her once black hair red with blood, her arm and cloths coated in the dried substance. And yet, even when death was about to claim her, she was beautiful.  
Benvolio rushed to her side, and checked her neck for a pulse. There was a small, erratic and feeble one, but one. He sent Romeo to find some gauze, disinfectant and such, before trying to stop the blood flow with his hands. Romeo came back, white as snow and empty handed.

"_bring her upstairs. You… she… just bring her."

Intrigued by this unusual comportment from Romeo, always the one to have the words to describe the beauty of such lady or another, he picked her up, once more worried she was light, even for a girl, and carried her upstairs.

One of the doors was open, and they entered. It was her bedroom. He could see her bags in one corner. Another door linked this room to something he assumed to be a bathroom and Romeo went there, without any hesitation. He pushed the door open and let Benvolio look inside.

He wished he hadn't.

The mirror was shattered. Blood was spilt everywhere like a long red coat on the white tiles. The water of the bath was slowly cooling, but the colour stayed the same. Blood red. Blood was dripping down the broken mirror; shards on the floor everywhere. He caught a glimpse of a succession of knives on the wall, all sharp and ready to use. Chill ran down his spine.

Setting his mind back to the dying woman behind them, he stepped in the bathroom and opened the doors of the medicine cabinet. Gauze and disinfectant were aligned, alongside other products such as bruise cream, painkillers, skin reparatory and such. Nothing very different, apart from the quantities. How many rolls of gauze? Too many to be counted. How many bottles of disinfectant? At least twenty. Two more laid discarded in the bin, alongside three more rolls of gauze. An empty tube of bruise cream was in the bin, while another half empty one was on the side.

She had used them not long ago.

Not long at all.

* * *

Her blood had tainted the sheets when they came back, and they hurried to make her bandages. They rolled up her bloodied sleeve and forced themselves to stay calm at the sight of the huge wound. They tied it up strongly, closing it after having poured some disinfectant over it. Once they had finished, they stared at her. Unable to say something, unable to do something, they stared at the woman who had been their best friend for so long. Not once had they noticed she was not a man, not once had they looked to search. She was like a man. She could fight, she could swear and she wore breeches. She had this aura with her, the one saying 'don't mess with me'. And if you did, you were soon sent flying into the dust. She was the one who shook them when they went down too low, she was the one to fight for their honour, she was the one to fight for them. Never had she asked for help, and when she needed it the most none of them had noticed.

They had failed her. Failed her like nobody should have been failed. Failed her like bastards.

They rid the house of the blood, and cleaned the surfaces during the days they waited for her to open her eyes. They had noticed the cuts on her body, the bruises and the scars. They had sensed her bones under her skin, seen her eyes and their bags under them. They were scared.

Scared she would never open her eyes again, scared they would never get to know the girl Mercutio was, scared her madness was the consequence to this, scared her father was the reason, scared they had been so blind. Thinking over and over their mistakes again, the days passed in heavy sorrow.

Juliet came to visit her husband, in the utmost secrecy and lady Montague came as well with Satana's doctor. Sadly, the man could do no more than them and told the two boys to watch over her carefully, now she had ran away. But she was not opening he eyes.

* * *

And then, one day, two charcoal eyes fluttered open.

* * *

**ME note: hahaha! cliff hanger! (well, not really...) **

**review, or I will send Satana's gohst to chase you around. promise (almost) #_#**

**So'**


	9. Chapter 9

They first took in the place they were in. then they looked around, and finally down at her body. The cuts in her flesh and the bruises were still there. She was not healing as quickly as she should have. She tried to sit, and pushed herself against the wall of her bed. Her body rung and called for her to stop killing it like that, but she didn't listen and forced herself sitting. Once she had done this, her back resting against the wall, she was panting and exhausted. She inhaled sharply once, twice and closed her eyes to offer her mind rest from the pain.

The door opened.

Her head shot around, she looked around like a mad animal and grabbed the first thing she could use as a weapon. Sitting in her bed, she clutched the half of a plate, the other half lying on the bedside table. She was relieved to see Benvolio enter, but soon her relief let place to anger.

"_what are you doing here?" her voice was harsher than she intended, and she saw him cower under her glare.

"_we came when you tried to kill yourself."

"_why did you save me?"

He didn't answer.

"_WHY DID YOU SAVE ME? I lied to you all the time I knew you, I hid away from you, and you, you save me? Why?"

He tried to take a step toward her, but she screamed;

"_DON'T TOUCH ME!"

He sent her a hurt look, before leaving the room. As soon as the door was closed, she curled in a ball on her bed, and despite her body begging for rest, she cried, and cried and cried, until she had no more tears to shed, until she was empty.

Then, she fell asleep

* * *

Living just for the sake of breathing, like an amorphous shadow of what human she used to be. No feelings, just black emptiness in her heart. No love. Just a cold black pit in which she had lost all thoughts of life. No ideas, no working of the brain. Just survival instincts and the need to be kept alive. She was nothing.

* * *

Had she ever been anything?

* * *

She was entirely withdrawn, not here anymore. There was nothing that could make her react. She would stay all day long in her room, sitting by her window and gazing out. She didn't sleep, barely ate and her voice was not to be heard. She was absent, her mind lost in some dangerous thoughts while she was dying slowly in the pain of herself. She was not here anymore.

* * *

The door to her room closed again, and Benvolio sighted. He and Romeo had been here for a month now, and Juliet had come in to live with them. She did the cooking and cleaning, but she was not very good at it and they often needed to help. Wherever they went, he remembered with nostalgia, there was always Mercutio with them, helping them out with that kind of staff. They had never questioned her abilities to run a house, even if sometimes she knew tricks in cooking only somebody used to cook would know. They never questioned her, because they always thought Mercutio was special and not to be questioned. But she had gone mad. Completely and utterly mad. Her common sense had ran away as soon as her father had hit her, and she only found help in madness. When she was mad, she could run away, she could escape. When she was mad, she could venture in a new world, painless and joyful. Colours were bright and sounds pleasant, no more shouts of agony, no more pain and suffering. Just her.

She was lost in this world, unable to be reached by any means. But how long could they hide her? How long would she take to come back? Would she come back from her nightmares, from her madness, from herself? Would she ever be herself again?

They had tried everything. They had shouted, cried, pleaded and prayed. They had hit her, shoved her and even slapped her. But she wasn't coming back. Every day, the flame in her eyes was growing dimmer, growing duller.

* * *

He entered her room and sat next to her. He looked at her hair, beautiful raven black, at her eyes, still a fiery charcoal even if only coldness shone in them. Finally, he looked at her hands. They were clasped onto her laps; squeezing so tightly one another they probably stopped the blood flow. He undid them and took one in his. It was cold as death.

"_Satana…" he called her. "Satana, come back. I love you, please come back."

She blinked, once, twice. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep. Benvolio was shocked. He hadn't expected a reaction to his words, he had let them flow out of his mouth without thinking, and they were the feelings of his heart. Heart beating faster right now than it ever had.

* * *

She was back.

* * *

He looked down at the sleeping form and smiled softly. She was back.

Picking her up and carefully lying her down on the bed, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her sleeping angel face. Stroking it, he made to leave but her hold on his hand was too strong. Smiling, he lied down next to her and tied his arms around her small frame.

She was back.

And she was his.

* * *

**ME note: hahaha! THE END!**

**if you want an epilogue (every body who is a masochist raise your hand) maybe, if you ask really nicely i might post one.**

**everything is in the might though...**

**yours writingly,**

**So'**


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